


E.R.A.S.E.D

by WhiteGloves



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst and Tragedy, Castiel is a Good Friend, Castiel is a Softie, Castiel is a Winchester, Dean is Not Amused, Dean is a Bad Influence, Dean is a Good Friend, Dean is a Little Shit, Drama, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Multi, Other, Poor Castiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-30 09:50:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8528452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteGloves/pseuds/WhiteGloves
Summary: Dean and Cas had been on ups and downs of friendship and brotherhood through the years. Mistakes don't set them apart anymore. Zaps in Post Apocalypse survivors Dean and Cas from 2014 by some miracle. From hate camp, survivor Dean does not forgive well and with human Cas most likely the reason for the mess in the calendar, he is ready to cut ties. How to deal with angry management and yoga sex-addict Cas now swimming on the bender? Warning for profanity! Sam's along the way!





	1. Exist

***E.R.A.S.E.D***

by: _WhiteGloves_

A/N: I'm generally 'stoned' too so if this turned out too dramatic. It **is**. Hugely based on 5x04 and present. Twisted and hopefully with less OC we only add on the kill list anyways. Oh wait, we need them. Don't own anything here. Kripke's hogged them all. ;). Enjoy.

* * *

**Chapter 1: E**

* * *

Detroit, 2014- Post Apocalypse

_He isn't the same- his life, his faith, even his friend._

_Only if his friend..._

One of the perks of hating his father— _God—_ is having an excuse to believe in _everything_ else without banging his head open on rocky walls or wish to be struck by lightning while waving a metal rod. It was an amazing aspect he realized after ending as this _sorry-drug-induced-yoga-instructor-womanizer_ with great _ass._ God and the angels? They can swagger about in heaven in high heels and continue missing the peccadilloes humans enjoy swimming in— _a Free Willy in Ocean_ _Decadence_. That's life. So him—Cas—mortal that he is—is free to follow any idols he wants and respects— and he chooses one that does not punish people by _resurrecting_ them with mind-boggling memories glued on their heads with inclusion of how they die— that's just _brutal._

Thank god, there's Buddha.

Happy with his choice, Cas added _Buddhism_ to his _resume_. Hell, he even put the guy's statue in his room because this god's got taste—he erases memories and returns you to earth brand new— _reincarnation_. _Brain wash. Guilt wash. Reborn from ashes._ Even hecklers will kiss ass for that. So he kept his faith nice and easy and waited for the day he gets snuffed out and reincarnated as a _bee_. He still liked that idea all despites.

Cas didn't have to wait long, though and that's a good thing—like _save-by-the-bell_ really good thing now because this _mad_ world's finally ending. The sign came in two this 2014: the reappearance of the Colt and twin Dean Winchester from 2009. He wished this Dean would stick around-Cas didn't care how long—this old version's a pretty funny guy unlike, well, himself. Looking back 'change' is an understatement.

So when their _leader_  has decided it's time to bang up Lucifer's bitching with the Colt, Cas knew it was the end. He didn't have to have a say to it. This same _fearless leader_ then sent his team on an ice cream errand to party with the Croates. Cas knew it was bad news. 

And what has been deemed as inevitable has finally come to be realised-  _after purposefully landing on the trap just to give the heroes room to kill Lucifer, Cas knows he is dying._

You would think it too if all you could see is red, one of your eyes has puffed out and your right arm dangling like it's not part of you. Cas can feel all mortal pain kicking in being a son of a bitch sentient that he is. They had been had; the Croates in the hot zone were smarter—that _or his team got dumber considering they attacked knowing it was an ambush._ Yeah, they _are dumber._

So Cas drags himself away from hell-on-earth arena with persistence he never knew he still had. The losing battle is in front of him, they had to withdraw— _to survive for whatever hellish reason left_. But he wants to find both _Deans_ first. The idea of dying _alone_ made him instinctively think of _them._ Or maybe he was just looking for a reason not to kick the bucket yet. What's still pulling him?

He remembers the other _Dean_ from 2009 vanish with the leader at the back. The moment they did—everything turned bad real quick. Partying with Croates was expected to be nasty. On the first minutes Cas enjoys it— guns firing and blazing, the adrenaline, moving about, kicking. Then one of his buddies went down with bullet on his neck. Cas was not fazed. It wasn't the first death he saw. But he remembered this same guy laughing at a joke he told the women. He was a _friend._ Cas' gut churned horribly and he fired more ammo. Then Croates rainbow party went wild next with more splashes of red colors. His eyes puffed, his shoulder shot.

_Fuck._

It was going nowhere. The ambush was clear; Cas slams his back on a wall to catch his breath thinking of finally… his last day. His mind drifts to _reincarnation_ and the _bee…_ then he thought of the survivors left in the camp. How long can they survive without them? Then he worries about the beautiful ladies who were his flowers. He will miss them.

News flash— _Risa's dead_. He saw her die.

A jolt of pain inside him crept to his lungs up to his throat, jamming out sound. The gun on his hand's useless, just like him. Firing it wasn't enough. Party was nearly over anyway and he is standing alone. That was when Cas started running. Whoever decided he come out of the party barely in one piece has some pretty nasty issue against him. But he is running now. His head is super painful and he can't think straight anymore. He wonders if he should have stayed behind. Then realizes he can't. He promised to fight when called by _the leader, o fearless man,_ he phrased.

Unreliable and useless that he is, Cas remembers every word he said when he bank up for the job, which underneath included profligacy and self-loathing.

He knows 2009 _Dean_ is alive too. It was tons fun to see him. Kind of like the old times… He feels sorry somehow but don't know for whom. So he wonders if his fearless leader managed to kill Lucifer. By the looks of it, all of them would have perished and still not know if he succeeded. If he did… _then what?_

Cas' chest is in flames. Still, he moves on. His clothing is drenched with sweat and blood. His surrounding is intoxicating especially the stench of _death._ His body shakes violently that nearly caused him to trip down but he keeps up, afraid if he goes down now he may never get up.

Lucifer is _near._ Despite his lack of power, Cas can feel his fallen brother and wherever he is, his leader will be too. He can only hope, even this one. That his _friend_ is alive. It is the leader's job to secure the task on his shoulder… it's Cas' job to aid him through it.

He is striding now in a garden patch, with roses he can't appreciate towards the place he saw the Deans disappeared. It had been an hour since then and they've lost much. The blood path he made from the building seems to attract Crotes as he hears them come but the concern was wiped out of his mind as he looks at the empty garden—

Cas freezes.

He first sees the Colt laying uselessly on the ground, then just beside it a familiar hand leading to a body with a broken neck.

A familiar face with closed eyes, an empty vessel. _Dead._

Everything goes silent. Even his thoughts disappear as his breathing.

Cas stares at his friend's face. His body loses every bit of strength left as he staggers. He moves around, disbelieving, forgetting his pain, the Crotes, forgetting Lucifer and all other damned. He forgets why he is there—wonders why staring at another dead body—after seeing so many, is making him wish he is also dead.

Captain's dead. Left the building. _They failed._

He drags himself instinctively, drops himself beside it and touches the cold hands gently. No response. Cas grips the hand, wanting to call the man's name but the unfamiliarity is condemning. He hates himself for it. He hates himself since then. He hates himself till now.

And now the man's dead with the warmth of his body leaving like how Cas' grace had left him years ago…

The pain is absolute. Anguish. He clutches the man closer and bows his head. If there was anyone left to mourn this man, Cas always knew it was always meant to be him to stand on this man's grave, alone, shaking. _Lost._

Then he _prays._ It came to him like lightning and he prays. _He believed! God, his angels—_ all of them. It was pure determination and agony that surged through him afterwards. He calls heaven to answer but knows they will not. It warrants anger and suddenly his skin glows hot white like he is about to burst—he wants to make heaven feel his sorrow, his guilt, his _life_ … just make them feel how _hell_ is like.

But _the man_ is dead. He screams loud… louder… _loud enough to crash heaven to him._

And sees nothing but blazing light.

* * *

Present: 2016

A loud shutting sound of barring metal doors joggled Dean Winchester's head away from his arm violently as he slept on, shaking him awake and alert for any possible attack that didn't come except of the falling of something heavy on his legs. Confused for a moment with brows unforgiving, the hunter realized seconds next he is still inside the Bunker's library with tons of books laid open in front of him after pulling an all-nighter with bottles of beer on the table and a gigantic book on his thighs. _Where are the women?_

Dean slams the open book shut and looks up to identify the reason behind his awakening wishing it be a demon— _he feels like killing one at the moment._ But intruders are ruled out immediately after he heard the slack-ish footsteps descending on the metal stairs. No assassin or demon would make such a gate crashing entrance in the Winchesters hideout!

Checking out the time, the hunter sees 03:11a.m flashing on his watch. Residents Inn should probably impose 'selected' curfews with its three occupants effective immediately now— with Dean, excluded. The idea's for the kids—two kids in fact with one unbearably an infant. Sammy is with their mother for now doing what he sees fit. The angel however, well… the infant appears to be partying to _Kingdom come._

Staring up, Dean waits for the kill with steel eyes, aiming to intimidate.

The footsteps sounded heavy, unlike its owner's usual light one. If Sam would make such heavy strides, Dean would undoubtedly kick him out of Hunter's Association even if they were the only members. Because no hunter _steps_ like that!

But more so—definitely no decent _angel._

Dean watches in slow motion as the owner of the footsteps finally reveals himself. He emerged from the thick walls, wobbly as a daruma doll, foggy eyed and moody. His short dark hair is unruly, like he had been standing all day on planet upside down with his neck tie askew. His clothes—there was nothing else to describe it— a dirty piece of meat suit wearing a dirty piece of trench coat. Castiel in the making.

The hunter sighs inwardly with his chin raising as he sees the angel step into the light without a glance in his direction. He watches more as the said apparition in flesh bobs on his feet, apparently _dead drunk_ when he goes and hugs a pillar unconcernedly.

"Hey, jellybeans? You wanna stop freaking out the column? Come and sit here." He barks causing Castiel—who had knocked his head on the brick pillar—look around, scandalized at the sharp tone that he blinks hard many times following the terrible sound. Dean shuts his eyes while the angel gives a pause for the damage—then goes to attack the table Dean is in.

"I don't even want to ask." The hunter says as he watches Castiel grab one of his beers, flick the bottle cap away with only a thumb, pick up a glass nearest him and pours himself liquor. The angel's already on his second full rainbow when Dean snatches the glass away with a grim look. "Ok, that's enough."

Unperturbed, Cas takes a swig on the bottle—

"Hey, hey!" Dean snarls to the stunned angel who turns at the painful sound while Dean takes the bottle too. "The hell did you do with your day? Looked for jobs in _Factotum_? Stalk wineries in Europe? What's wrong with you?"

"Loud, _loud_..." Castiel turns his face away in dislike and grimaces with hands clapped on both ears. Dean doesn't blame him. Angels are supersonic sensitive which makes everything plenty stupid since Cas knew that already. And drank anyway.

"Feeling crap?" the hunter asks, eyes in attention with a _well deserved_ smirk. "I can pour you some holy bloody oil in a grail, what d'you say?"

Castiel glares and murmurs something inaudible that sounded like a profane term. Dean grins and left the table.

"Quit squirming." he barks again minutes later to the uptight angel when he returned from the kitchen carrying a tray to find one of Castiel's legs halfway down the chair. "Sit up—hey— _hey_! No legs on the table—what are you, a damn cat? Here, take this."

He pushes a cup of tea in a saucer with small cups of chocolate candies—his preference— in front of the angel who sits still for awhile with right palm on his face, eyes open. He made no move, didn't even bat an eye as he stares into a space on the table with a dark look on his face.

The hunter watches him warily for he had seen Castiel's temperamental expressions. He wants to prelude interrogation but afraid the angel would snap being himself plus the spirit of barbarian's alcohol. Snap as in _all-mojo-out-flashing-red-lights-nerdy-angel-beating-the-crap-out-of-anyone_. Not that he thinks Cas irresponsible.

_Suck that._

"You okay?" he begins. There, safely, in general. No snappy responses require.

Cas slowly moves his eyes—clear blue and dark flashing. He stares at the cup first with his heavy lidded eyes before looking up at the hunter blankly, tiredly. He grunted. Dean narrows his eyes edgily.

"I'll need more than that to justify a crime, Cas." The hunter riles with eyes on the angel. Then fish swims—"What the hell's up with you? You haven't shown yourself in what—two weeks? Then lo behold you suddenly come back all Martin Sheen? What— _did a dick you don't like just won president so you come here mopping?'"_ he glares at the angel again in time to see him look back as if just seeing him the first time.

"I can't fly." Cas sighs painfully.

"What?"

"I didn't go to Europe. _Because I can't fly."_

Dean loses all logic and shakes his head, "Alright, I get it. You got no juice to fly—your wings are broken. Is that why you decided to go all island drunk, huh? Or is hunting Lucifer on oceans free not going well without submarines?"

"Both." Cas groaned with a little shake of his head. "I've been at it for months…"

"It's not like he's going anywhere." Dean shrugged positively. "I mean the world's round, how many circles can be made without intersecting, right?"

"Unless it's the bottom of the ocean, yeah." The angel reached for the beer and was already drinking on it before Dean could jerk it back with a new contortion of eyebrows threatening to dig deeper as a hint to the angel. Castiel gave him a disapproving look before turning to his cup. The angel watched it for a long while till his eyes began to droop.

"Drink it." Dean says, watching him. "It'll lighten you up. While you're at it you might want to change your clothes that don't make you look like a rag. Try a trench coat for a change."

"You don't look so swell yourself." Cas observes, making Dean shoot him a look. _Pet biting owner._

"Well, I'm me, you're an angel."

"And the difference is…?"

"I have better meat suit."

"That… that doesn't add up." Castiel glances up with eyes suddenly filling with inquiries as Dean pushes the tea towards him again till it was by his fingers.

"That's because you're drunk, pal. You can't think straight, nothing adds up, everything's a yoyo so why don't you take this tea down so I can dump you on your room and let you burry yourself with Netflix again."

The angel took one look on the tea and grimaces again. "It's not a bad idea. I can do that."

"Yeah, take a break. Then I'll set your alarm clock clucking to _'Lucifer's coming'._ "

Castiel gave him a cold look Dean returns with a smirk that melted away as he lost the staring contest.

"Just drink it, alright?"

"But tea?" Cas sighs again as he finally took the cup's side. Then he looks up suspiciously. "Are you mothering me?"

"No, that's Sam's job. I'm _smothering_ you." The hunter grunted with hands clasped together as he watched the angel drink the tea without any apparent expression at all.

"Where's Sam?"

"Around…chasing mother goose." Dean shrugs, remembering his mom. "Mom's on a self-chase… And Sam he… he called mom once and the next thing he wants to meet her."

Castiel gives him a funny questioning look. The kind which would make Dean suddenly feels expose under the angel's scrutinizing eyes.

"What?" he asks defensively.

"Why didn't you go?" Castiel wonders aloud in his now _mellow-revered_ voice. His senses have returned. Dean looks at him testily but knows it is useless when Castiel's asking questions like that. He seems to know the answer before he hears them. Dean always thought him a conductor of emotionally-disturbed activities. He dismisses the thought.

"Look—I go there now I might drag her back here and she'll hate me." When confusion crossed the angel's face, the hunter clears his throat and presses his lips. "It's dangerous out there, Cas… and there's half of me always thinking something's out there to get her. Like how everything's out there to get Sammy when we were kids. Takes a lot of me to stop myself from freaking out, you know?" he smiles strangely now because he feels like mocking himself but knew Cas never judges. "I think there's a maniac inside me thinking like dad these days. Keeping people I care about from their freedom. Making their choices… with their lives. I'm pretty messed up, I know. But that's what I do."

He drinks on the bottle he is holding with Castiel's eyes on him and Dean looks away. He feels his face grow hot and it's not because the angel is looking at him up close. He just never expected this morning's version of Dr. Phil with a drunken angel and his patriarchal issues.

"You have an issue." Cas diagnoses that earned him a spot on look from Dean.

"Thank you, nurse. Really helpful." He chugs the beer to the last drop and thumps it on the table. The angel shakes his head.

"No, Dean, I mean—I don't think acting as you are towards them, I don't think they can take it against you." Dean listens. "You just want to protect them. You've always been like that with Sam… your mother." He shrugs. "Sometimes I feel, with me."

"Oh." Dean watches his friend, curious. "And… do you think it's a bad thing?"

Castiel looks him square in the eye. "These days… I don't think I will ever see 'caring' as a bad thing. It's an act of kindness, you know… because it's what keeps you _human._ "

Dean believes him. He just does. "So what does that make you?" he flips easily to divert attention before Cas notices his reddening ears.

The angel raises eyebrows and sighs. "A poor example of someone who cares too much it can topple heaven and earth."

The hunter laughs thinking of the angel's reference. "Well, that's makes us two. So? What's with the wings issue? Two years and just now you're complaining?"

"I crashed my truck." Cas admits after a while with shame flashing on his blue eyes as he looks away.

"Where?"

"California."

Dean didn't expect a full recount so he just shakes his head. "So?" dumb question.

"One of the wheels exploded, the truck fell on the ditch. There weren't any other cars for the next ten miles."

"Where in California did you go?" the hunter asks, bemused.

"The point is, I wasted time." Castiel's eyes are sharp again. "And I realize how much I am wasting because my wings—"

"And getting drunk technically speaking doubled your hours?" when the angel just stared at him, Dean knew he had to burst the bubble, "Or… you actually just want to drink and forget all about the crappy stuff you've been through?"

It hit the bull's eye. Castiel had never looked so unhappy. "I'm sorry." He goes on with a sigh, "I shouldn't have—I should be searching—"

He is scrambling on his feet when Dean reaches a hand, frowning.

"Hey, whoa—hold your pants—I told you, I get it, Cas. You just want a break, alright?" he tugs on the angel's sleeve to make him sit again, "It's fine. You got plenty of crap on your shoulder, I don't blame you." He watches as the angel's shoulders lose its tense and gradually began to relax on his seat again. "That's why Sammy and I told you we'll help you look for Lucifer in the first place."

"I'm the one—" goes the broken recorder—

"Set him lose, duly noted." Dean bridles, annoyed. "But if it's gonna break you like this I'd rather have you watching Netflix."

A flash of recognition appears on Castiel's eyes and for a moment, it made the angel smile.

"You don't mean that. Me, out of the game."

"Not really." The hunter nods, taking another sip on his beer. "Otherwise I'd be the one reeking in alcohol here. But this is good— I mean you opening up. You rest when you need to. Everybody deserves a break, you know?"

"Not angels." The pensive look returns on the angel's face.

"You're halfway not." He catches himself and looks at his friend. "Was that comforting?"

"Ineffectively." But Castiel smiles again as he leans back on the chair, battery out.

Dean holds his honks watching him, and then smiles. Cas is stronger than he looks. Till he looked like an infant raising his head with gloomy blue eyes now. The hunter is about to slam the response but things get livelier when out of nowhere—the angel suddenly shot up to his feet, eyes round and large as something in his head distracts him. The man guesses the angelic club network turning the ' _We're Open'_ board. Is it about Lucifer? Or something worse?

"Cas?"

"Dean." The angel turns sharply on the hunter's direction, his pale face all sobered up. "We need to go."

He is up and on the go before Dean could raise any objection.

* * *

Dean finds himself behind the familiar wheels of his baby minutes later with the angel beside him. Castiel is in the middle of explaining what he heard—disturbances in the world's order—an inconceivable event— _but hell what else is new?_ Only, Dean's phone rings and Sam's speaking on the other line saying something about hunting with their mother.

"What do you mean you're on a hunting trip?" Dean bristles with contorted brows, eyes on the road, hands on the wheel. Cas sits silently beside him.

 _"Aren't you?"_ comes the younger brother, _"I can hear you driving."_

"Answer me—why are _you hunting?!"_

_"She's insistent about it, Dean. Come on, you know it's in our blood. It's not like I could keep her from it."_

Dean munches his lips."You could at least try."

 _"You wanna try and stop her?"_ Sam asks challengingly. When no response came, he goes on. " _Anyways, this may take awhile. If you want you can come—?"_

The older brother glances at the angel beside him with sharp eyes and then sighs. "It's fine. I'd rather have you beside her while she's on ganking supernatural stuff. I've got something with Cas."

_"Everything good?"_

"If you think practically bolting out of the Bunker because of some friggin' angel broadcast from upstairs is good—"

_"All right, I get it. Seems serious. Is it about Lucifer?"_

"God knows. Cas' still sobering up."

_"He's drunk?"_

"Yeah, like bachelor's party drunk. He's fine. I got him."

_"Okay, just keep me updated. We don't know much about angels except them locking heaven and now, suddenly they open network to Cas? Why? Cause they know something horrible happened but don't want to get their hands dirty so they're letting their already sullied angel clean up the mess?"_

"I can hear you." Cas points out.

"He can hear you." Dean relays the message, making Sam to remain quiet so Dean chuckles. "Well, you know them. Plates' full, it's on your hands now, and it's your world kind of thing. I mean, what's new? I think we're better off if they don't screw with us."

" _Where are you headed?"_

"Detroit."

_"Alright. Keep your head up, alright, Dean?"_

"Up and sniffing. You do the same. _And who do you think you're talking to?"_

_"I'm just sayin', man. When angels get involved and then get 'uninvolved'? Not a good sign."_

"Alright, Nostradamus. Any ideas what to expect?"

_"I don't know. Surprise me."_

"You bet." Dean smirks as he hung up and put his phone away. With a glance at his watch reading seven in the morning, the hunter turns his head to his only companion again. "You heard Sam, Cas? He says surprise him."

Castiel's face is grim and he narrows his eyes seriously at the comment.

"Be careful what you ask for."

* * *

The black impala parks outside a residential area in Detroit but unnaturally, the area is deserted. Dean comes out of his car and slams it shut with eyes travelling on his surroundings feeling like he's on one of those post- apocalyptic movies. The idea shakes him and he immediately walks around, alert and vigilant to whatever's out there. The stench in the air is thick, like a gas exploded somewhere but with no fire. Dark clouds partly cover the sky in circle as if a whirlwind has decided to make a tornado on the spot but vanishes an instant.

"Why Detroit?" he asks the angel uncomfortably, silently glad his brother's not around.

"Because it's here." The look on Castiel's face is not reassuring, especially when he takes Dean's attention and pointed behind a tall, brick walled building. They walk near it, eyes scouring the place till the angel pointed again, this time near an orchard. Dean nods at him and together, the two steps in, side by side to the silent garden where roses and statues and a fountain lay hidden. The hunter has this sort of déjà vu of the place and wonders if he has been there.

Castiel halts their movements and Dean realizes why.

It appears like he isn't mistaken of the déjà vu for there, beneath the flowers and the fountain are two bodies lying on the singed grassy ground— two so _familiar bodies to them both._ There was no need to describe in detail when it was like looking in a different mirror but seeing the same faces underneath the bloody, dirty clothes because there on the ground are _their bodies._ And Dean knows they aren't any shape shifters. He remembers them exactly as they are from a dream! _But how…?_

"What is this…?" Castiel frowns at Dean whose eyes immediately answer his friend.

"You tell me…" the hunter blinks hard, trying to recall the event in his mind years ago when some maniac angel named Zachariah sends him forward in time where _Lucifer_ was in his brother's body and these two… well… he got to see himself get a broken neck and god knows what happened to the hippy Cas but one thing's for certain— _they aren't meant to survive!_ Let alone _exist_ for that was only an episode of a mad angel's fabrication of the future. "I think…" he pauses to breathe. What _is_ happening?

Cas frowns at him deeply and then takes step towards the fallen. He observes the bodies for awhile and then raises a hand to his look-alike—

 _"This one's dying."_ He informs the hunter who followed right behind him. "He looks like me. Why?"

But Dean isn't listening anymore for there—at that precise moment—his own body version opens its eyes and stares at them in full surprise— the Dean of the present automatically grabs the angel's right shoulder to haul him up shouting—

_"That me is supposed to be dead!"_

* * *

**EXIST**

* * *

**~TBC~**

_A/N: R is for...?_

_**Thank you for reading!** _


	2. Rage

***E.R.A.S.E.D***

by: _WhiteGloves_

A/N: To be fair, you're all missing something XD

**Chapter 2: R**

* * *

 

Of all the supernatural stuff, Dean _seeing another Dean_ always tops it all. But hey, doppelgangers or shape shifters are common—but to meet the version of himself he thought never existed (he recognizes the dirty, combat-like-clothing of both men) staring back at him now with wild stumped look as he gathers himself up quickly from the ground with a hand snatching behind him to get his dagger for protection, is absolute crazy house. This one version of himself he actually _disliked!_ Though Dean silently commends _himself_ for the ready to attack first-questions-later move. He’d totally do that. He totally understands.

“What’s going on?” the other Dean spat with a growl that seem to encompass his alarm at what he is seeing. He looks around them with murderous eyes and all the present Dean could do is to stand there, baffled and uncertain like his version. 

“Hey, man—look—” he begins.

“ _Why am I alive?”_ other Dean bellows, his eyes with sharp blades. That got Dean and Cas to look at one another. Then the hunter replies— 

“You remember—?”

_ “I remember dying.”  _ other Dean growls, eyes on his look-alike who stares back more puzzled, “ _Lucifer killed me! He snapped my neck—I remember all of that!”_

“I remember that too.” Dean affirms and in his mind’s eye he sees Lucifer in his younger brother’s meat suit, wearing an incredible white suit he’d use to annoy Sam with, stepping on his 2014 version and cracking his neck easily. How could Dean forget something like that? So turning serious looks at the angel beside him, the present Dean nods. “You were dead—”

“Then why am I alive?”

“Okay, man—one question at a time. You’re not the only one—”

But the other Dean’s already looking at Cas with contorted eyebrows, especially at the trench coat getup. Then as if understanding, he lowers the blade a little.

“You’re ‘Cas’ with the angel power.” He says with a little reverie but the blades in his eyes never disappear. “So what did you do, huh? Bring me back to life before you take this ol’ version of mine on the right calendar cause’ it’s already past his bed time? Disappear just like that again?”

Castiel’s mostly dismal face turned somber. “Whatever it is that happened… I assure you, it was not my doing. Even so… I think…” he looks pass this Dean towards the man in bloody jeans and coat still unconscious on the ground. “If he is me… he’s dying.”

Both Dean turns to the man on the ground with different expressions—one of concern and the other with slight indifference and further questions.

“Cas, go heal him, please.” Present Dean quickly says right as his other version glares at him. “What? You’re not just gonna leave your friend there dying, are you? No wait—” Dean’s eyes flashes, “You already _did_ when you sent him as a decoy to die. You remember that?”

Cas, who has lowered himself beside his _unconscious version,_ slightly looks up as he checks the body.

“Get over it.” Other Dean rumbles deeply as he put the blade in its sheath behind him with a strong expression and clenched jaw. “I thought I made it clear to you _I’m the one making decisions here! It’s my time—so you don’t get to tell me what to do!”_

To which Dean laughs out loud, “You think you’re still in 2014? Post Apocalypse?”

Other Dean’s lips go down into a curve.

“You’re in my time—2016!” finishes the present hunter whose voice turned loud, eyes not leaving his own face, “So this time—

  _you don’t get to tell me what to do.”_

“2016?” hard face Dean is not listening anymore, “What the hell…I moved into the future?”

_ “My future.” _ Dean corrects.

“Strange…” Cas murmurs quietly somewhere but nobody pays him attention.

Other Dean is frowning so hard now as they stand face to face like-looking-in-a-mirror. “You’re saying this yet you’re still the’ _me’_ who came into my time from 2009? Man, you’ve been messing with time—!”

“No—this _isn’t future—_ this is my time! At present!”

“Oh, so you’re telling me my _time isn’t the present?”_

“Technically now, you’re the past—”

Other Dean’s jaw clenched so tight, present Dean knew he is just about to explode in anger—

“Alright—let’s take a breather—you and I. I don’t know what happened to you alright? I got snuffed out by Zachariah from your time before Lucifer could kill me. Did a few changes like you suggested— _but I didn’t say yes,_ dig. But I didn’t end up being you, the dick. So on the technicalities again; your version _did not happen._ Me and Sammy prevented Apocalypse with Cas right after our little _chat_.” He nods at the angel. “Someone else ‘married’ Lucifer and took him to honeymoon.” He received a glare from Castiel. “Anyways, he managed to escape his cage, he’s out there but he’s weak and all—God, his sister—it’s all confusing for you single-minded dude but you’re smart. So I’m telling you, _things just got supernaturally complicated for us._ Suck it up.”

Silence for the hard-jaw Dean to stare daggers at himself.

“So why am I here? What am I doing here?” other Dean now takes the bad attitude of somebody waking up at the wrong side of the bed.

“Good question.” Present Dean looks at the angel and _his mortal version._ “Cas? How did they end up here?” he walks to his friend who looks back at him—

“Dean, this me is terribly wounded. And he is mortal.” He sounds full of curiosity and the hunter does not blame him.

“Well, he is. And he’s more than what he looks so fix him up so we can get answers. You don’t want to see yourself die, trust me.” Dean shifts his footing as Castiel gives him another meaningful look that reminded him how many times both of them has already danced about with life and death.

“I did what I can already but he’s physically drained. I think I understand what happened.” That got the attention of both Deans who look back at him from where he is kneeling. “I think this version of me used all his angel power to somehow distort time and space—which require such an amount of power to achieve so that’s probably how he’s like this—in pieces and dying. I don’t feel any angel grace with him anymore and I’m afraid I never would. I’ve never touched a soul so damaged—well—except the time with Sam’s soul with the cage. But it is strange how this ‘version’ of me could be so strong to do time distortion. It’s impossible.”

“It’s more than impossible—it’s _not supposed to._ No, Cas, that’s not what happened.” Dean is already in front of the angel, eye to eye level with him, “I didn’t tell you this in detail—and _I never wanted to—_ but you were mortal in his 2014. The angels left and you sort of like—turn mortal.

Cas’ expression turned even more confuse.

“Yeah, so listen. You… had a different kind of personality you never want to ask about.”

“What are you—?”

“Are you telling me,” other Dean’s voice seem to come from the depths of the earth, low and rumbling, as the two present versions turn in his direction. “That he caused all this?” he eyes the piece of mortal meat still unmoving on the floor whose clothes were ripped and bloody but with wounds already healed. The other present two follows his eye line.

“No.” present Dean says almost confidently then—

“Yes.” Cas looks at the Deans skeptically. “I don’t exactly know how he did it but if he’s mortal his soul doesn’t feel right. Like it’s been exhausted from a magnitude of full use. He may just be the culprit.”

Both Deans eyed the angel like they believe him and Cas has to narrow his eyes at them defensively. “What? You think this version of mine is incapable? He can’t be that useless.”

“So why bring me here—in your time?” He looks deviously at the angel, with a face ready to erupt any time and looking at this version of him almost like a ticking bomb makes the present Dean so uneasy. Because he knows what he is capable of—especially this ruthless version of his. 

“He must be trying to save you.” Cas says flatly like it was common place.

_ “Well, fuck. I didn’t ask for that.” _

“Hey—” present Dean rounds on his counterpart, “You don’t get to decide who saves you alright? Least you could do is show some gratitude.”

A jerk on his collar and the next thing present Dean knows, he is almost nose to nose with his erratic twin whose eyes are ablaze.

“I’ve never known gratitude for years—not even to save my life.” He breathes contemptuously, “So nobody gets to decide for me. Not you—not junkie over there. I don’t care if he’s dying but if it’s real he messed with me—you better wish he doesn’t get up now because _I’m the one whose gonna put a bullet in his head.”_

Dean yanked himself away _from himself_ with his own heat rising to his head—

“You touch him and I kill you.”

Things shaped up pretty intensely right there, leaving Cas to watch the two dangle death sentence to one another. “Enough.” He finally says. “This won’t give us answers.”

Other Dean glares at him, “You’re an angel now and you’re still as worthless as ever.” Cas narrows his eyes but is unable to reply when present Dean smacks his right fists on his twin’s cheek. Riot comes next as other Dean retaliated by giving a full swing of his own stronger one that sent Dean down the ground and the two rolled about for a minute, exchanging blows with bits of blood everywhere— a showdown of the fittest.

Dean knocked his head on the other Dean but seems ineffective as fist by fist—other Dean showers him with angry fists and when people are angry sometimes they turn to Mighty Joe. Present Dean can hardly get an opening when the man on top of him suddenly collapses on the ground like his soul just got snuffed out from him. Looking up, present Dean sees Cas staring down at him with an exasperated look at his comatose version on the floor. The angel took him out— _safely._

“Didn’t think of that before he got me in pieces?” Dean asks just as Cas offers him a hand to help him up.

“He’s dangerous.” The angel sighs as they stood side by side. “Nothing is more dangerous than a confuse Dean Winchester.”

“You notice now?” Dean stares at his unconscious other and shakes his head. “Yeah, well, he’s me. _Bad version.”_

“So what do we do?”

“I know what I’d do.” Dean nods at the angel and took his phone out from his pocket, dialed his brother’s number and sigh just as it got answered. “Hey, Sammy? Remember when you told me to surprise you? _You’ll never believe it.”_

* * *

 

_ “I don’t believe it.” _ Sam says extra hours later as the younger Winchester stands in the dungeon of the bunker with eyes _on his brother,_ seated on the metal chair with cuffs and chains about him. The other Dean’s wide awake and is staring at Sam with a mystifying look of pure killer intent. “Why is he in chains?” he turns to his older brother who is beside him with crossed arms.

“Because he’s me. Demonic. Unpossessed.”

“You mean like you being you.”

“I’m never him.” Dean takes a serious face as he got into a staring contest with his twin. “ _I will never be him.”_

“I guess not.” Other Dean smirks subtly as he eyes the brothers. “Cause here you are, wrapped in your happy rainbow. I guess it takes a few turns of events to keep you sane and happy.” Dean and Sam turns to one another. “No Apocalypse. No brother dead, but there is a Lucifer. Which makes you guys wusses.”

“Excuse me?” Sam frowns. “Apocalypse didn’t happen, but we had to deal with a lot worst.”

“Everything else that happened after 2014 made Apocalypse look like icing on the cake.” Dean glares at his glaring self. “So nut up, will you? You’re not the only one with beefs to offer. So if you’re not going to be part of the solution then find another hobby that doesn’t involve making things worse.”

Other Dean throws a sour look at them. “So what now? You can’t keep me here forever.”

“But we can’t let you out either.” Sam is apologetic that only received another deadly glare.

“Why not?”

“Because we don’t know what brought you here in the first place.” Present Dean receives half the deadly glare. “We’re trying to avoid another scenario where you or human Cas will be use to end the world. Don’t look at me like that—you know you’re a wild card. _You’re the supernatural_.”

Silence fell in the lips of the 2014 version. Sam stares at him again and tries to change the subject.

“If you want to know how Cas is doing—”

“I didn’t ask.” Other Dean closes his eyes and when he opens them he gives the vibe of bad ego. “I don’t care. Do what you want with him.”

“We’re not going to do anything to him.” Dean crosses his arms with the same bad vibe. “What you did is enough.”

Sam looks from his older brother to the older brother, knowing the context of how ugly the Detroit plan worked out in 2014.

“Okay, uh—”

“And you better stop talking to me.” Plain and simple coming from the man in chains that got Sam to freeze. “With that face all I can see is my enemy.” He nods at Sam, who looks so taken a back he shifts in his feet. “So why don’t you just kill me? Again.”

“We won’t kill you.” Sam says with a bit of sympathy reflected on his face, “We don’t kill victims of circumstances.”

“Really? Is that our new motto now?” spat the other sarcastically, “Because the last time I remember you snapped my neck after bitching about how pathetic I am—and now here you are standing in front of me—again—and y’know what there’s nothing else I can think but ripping you off that sorry-ass mask!”

Sam frowns heavily and steps into the light. “I didn’t do shit to you in this time, alright?”

“I’m not gonna stick around waiting for you to prove it.”

Sam rounds to his present brother and stares him full in the face.

_ “Dick!” _ he hisses with much force.

“He’s a tease.” Dean says apologetically with a tap on his younger brother’s shoulder. “Let’s let him cool off. Maybe even forget he’s here.” They turn to the door and locked it. They heard the other Dean mutter something but ignores it as they walk on the Bunker’s corridor shoulder to shoulder.

“It’s worst than the demon you.” Sam tells his brother in an I-confess way, “Or not. But this Dick Dean’s full of crap on his shoulder. I don’t think he’s willing to take any help any time soon.”

“Where he comes from there’s almost no help.” Dean says quietly, “Mostly it’s just him and a bunch of guerilla survivors who’s lost the tank. It’s pretty hard on him out there and I don’t blame him being that way. It’s just… hard man.”

“Are you siding with him?”

“No, but I get it.” They eyed each other till Sam drops it just as they turn on the room corners.

“So the Cas here is mortal… and you think he’s got something to do with this ‘distortion’?”

“Cas thinks so.”

“But this mortal’s a junkie, right? Mortal Cas? The Cas who turned mortal here can’t even do anything—”

“He did baby sit once.”

“Yes, but if I remember what you told me correctly, he’s not up for any juice in that 2014 version. Let alone—a _full time distortion_ _while reviving your Dick Dean.”_ Dean turns at his brother with a flat stare and Sam just had to shake him out of it— “I’m serious man! What if it’s not him—what if it’s—

“Lucifer?” both Dean and Sam jumped in surprise when Castiel, the angel in the trench coat, appeared on their pathway with the deepest expression. “That’s a scary thought.”

“How’s Cas, Cas?” Dean just has to try it that received a suspicious glare from the angel.

“He’s awake. Seems pretty acceptable of what’s going on. I didn’t think myself too… adaptable.”

“You’ve no idea.” Dean says, “What’d he tell you?”

“Aside from the casual sex and drugs and constant requests for alcohol?” Cas shakes his head. “I don’t think he remembers. He knows up to when he finds Dean dead—”

 “ _Dick Dean_ dead.” Sam corrects him and shrugs when his brother glares.

“And he just sort of… blacked out.” The angel finishes with uncertainty. Then he stares up at the brothers with blue eyes shining, “I don’t think he did this alone. Lucifer or not, _he had help._ Someone plucked them out of that time and dropped them here in the present.”

“Why would anyone do that?” Dean counters, unimpressed, “I mean— _why would they pick out people from a universe that didn’t happen! This story line—we avoided it—or altered it—whatever! But it’s not like we’re talking of past of future—we’re talking about nonexistent universe!”_

“Well, they happened in your head.” The angel says simply. “That should be enough to believe _they existed._ ”

Dean scowls at the apparent lack of concern. “If everything in my head gets to exist I’d vote myself as god of the year.”

“Let’s thank Chuck you’re not.” Sam says with eyebrows going up, “So how do we explain this?” Blank stares looked back up at him.

“Maybe we don’t need to.” Cas answers quiet pensively, “The way he tells me his story—that me—when he sees ‘Dick Dean’ dead… that could have been a trigger.”

“Trigger for angel juice?” Dean bites questioningly.

“No—a trigger for faith.” Cas snaps back. “Sometimes all it takes for a person is to lose everything… and then there’s faith. You know, honestly I think if I prayed hard enough and sincerely wished for it, they’d accept me in heaven with open arms.”

Dean stares hard at him. “Why don’t you?”

Cas refrains from answering but the look he gives his friend bear meaning.

“So wait—” Sam pulls them back from the heap, “You telling me you think this Cas prayed hard enough for God to respond? But that’s Post Apocalypse, Cas, why would anyone answer him upstairs? You know well as I do how crap loaded the angels are. No offense.”

“Which brings me back to Lucifer.” Cas admits with a hint of worry. “If he’s realized that Dean—our Dean here came charging from the past, he must’ve meant for these two to follow—”

“So why 2016?”

“Maybe Lucifer’s playing bull.” The angel shakes his head. “We do not know for certain. Angels are not omniscient, we can’t know what will happen but we do know the past. Zachariah sending you in there should not have been done in the first place. Especially with Lucifer reigning that time. Sending people to future… makes the future the present for them… and a creature as powerful as Lucifer seeing that…”

“So it’s Zachariah’s fault?”

Cas catches their eyes. “I’m afraid so. But it doesn’t explain the purpose.”

Dean inhales and shut his eyes close. “I want a drink.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Cas says with Dean giving him an odd look. “I mean—my other version is asking for absinthe. Do we have that here?”

“Don’t give him any of that.” Dean says, “he’s not wasting on my wake.”

“Well, you get him juice, but I want to see him.” Sam interrupts as the two headed towards the kitchen.

“Don’t stress him.” The older brother calls out. Then turning to the angel, “How’s that? You just met _you_ whose worst than your own version when you became human.”

“I was only human briefly.” Cas answers as Dean gets beer and throws him juice. “But I think give or take a few years of me staying on earth, it could be possible.”

Dean looks up. “Not funny, man. I’m not letting you.” Which just made the angel incline his head on one side curiously.

“What did he say happen to him, this Cas version of me?” he asks.

“Life.” Dean responds after one swig, his eyes hard. “And people around him… not particularly nice.”

“It’s Post Apocalypse. Not the nicest time.” The angel leans on the table thoughtfully.

“I’m speaking of when… we, people, don’t lose humanity and sacrifice our friends.” That came out really grinding for the hunter.

“You mean the other you?” Cas assesses, “You don’t seem particularly fond of this version.”

“Not really. He’s the one guy I hope never to turn into.” He takes another swig and sighs. “And that version of you is another thing I never want to see you in. And so is Sammy bitching as Lucifer. Damn, I really hate that 2014.”

Castiel makes no comment as Dean empties his bottle just in time for Sam to come thundering from the corridor.

“Where’s Cas?” he throws at them at once and they know immediately he’s talking about the other one.

“Not here.” Flat fact. Then Sam is the first one to run outside instinctively and the two follow suit. They practically raced towards the dungeon room when there free off his chain, already stepping outside it is Dick Dean with human Cas, wearing casual clothing, right behind him. The look on Dick Dean’s face is priceless. Especially on his hand is a loaded gun. 

“Oh, great.” Dean grits his teeth as they stop full and warily eyes their reflection. Castiel beside him frowns at his counterpart who is supporting a bleeding lip. Dean and Sam see this and turns eye of daggers to Dick Dean. “He sets you free and you beat him?” 

Human Cas licked his bleeding lip and shifts uncomfortably behind the man.

“It’s well deserved.” Dick Dean glares behind him, “And now we’re out—now what?”

“How did he even know where to find him?” Sam points out of nowhere.

“It’s pretty telling.” human Cas answers conversationally, “Where you keep the thickest door and strongest locks. That’s normally a call sign for my fearless leader.”  He catches the angel’s eyes. “I’m sorry me, but I’m not you. Different-different… and different priorities.” He smiles that got Castiel blinking.

“He sent you to the grinding machine in Detroit to die and you’re still with him?” Dean rumbles out to other Cas.

“It’s always been part of the plan.” The human Cas answers with a blank expression. “I signed up for.”

“Yeah, but now you survived,” Sam cuts in, “And you’re in different time than you know— _you don’t have to do this, Cas.”_

“Do what?” Dick Dean spats at everybody. “Nobody’s making any body do anything and that means you three get out of my way. I’m not gonna stay here like a guarded ticking bomb— _let me out!_ Or I swear you’ll have me breathing at your neck and nobody wants that.” He gives off all intent of meaning what he said. Except Dean is unconvinced.

“And what are you going to do out there, huh?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about me surviving.” Comes the retort. “But the last place I wanna be in is _here._ ” He eyes Sam particularly who looks offended at the man. 

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Fine. But when we call _you, you answer or you’ll have me breathing down your neck and you won’t like that.”_

The Deans give each other a stare that only they can do. And Dick Dean walks out—only, Cas intends to follow. The leader turns to him.

“You’re not coming.” It is a flat order.

“What?” Cas watches as Dick Dean walk pass him, nudging his shoulder as he did. “What am I supposed to do here? I don’t belong here—a”

“You stay.” The leader turns once only with his dead eyes at his subordinate. And it is said in such a commanding voice that got mortal Cas looking lost for a second. But Dick Dean isn’t finish yet. “If you’re the real reason we are behind this mess, I don’t want to see you. You’re already useless to me when you lost your crap. Now you’re as useless as before and I don’t want to be burdened in a world I don’t even know.”

“Hey!” Present Dean barks angrily but a gun is pointed in his direction. Sam and Cas automatically stood vigilant but present Dean is undaunted. “Speak properly to your friend, you asshole.”

Dick Dean turns to him, darkly. Full of rage. Then he is gone, leaving human Cas just standing there with a stricken, yet plain expression.

_ “Dick.”  _ Sam breathes out with Castiel and Dean watching the former angel.

* * *

 

**RAGE**

* * *

**~TBC~**

_A/N: Or maybe not haha!_

_Next A is for...?_

_**Thank you for reading!** _


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